


and it's a long way forward, so trust in me

by shadhahvar



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Birthday Sex, Christmas Smut, Condoms, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Making Love, Motels, Multiple Orgasms, Nicknames, Porn with Feelings, Post-Coital Cuddling, Prostate Orgasms, Riding, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 11:56:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12058506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadhahvar/pseuds/shadhahvar
Summary: Victor and Yuuri get caught up in a snowstorm trying to cross the mountains at the start of their winter holiday, spending a night and early morning in a motel room in the middle of nowhere.  That's it.  That's the premise.  Sex, perhaps unsurprisingly, ensues.Yuuri laced his fingers through Victor’s, tugging him forward as they left their towels hanging over the hook on the bathroom wall.  He watched Victor with an intensity belied by the gentle brush of his lips against Victor’s fingertips; embarrassment wasn’t for moments like these, not when he felt his own love humming through him, stronger than even the seductive melody of his building arousal.  Victor stared back at him as Yuuri walked him toward the bed; leaned his face into Yuuri’s cupped palm, when his other hand found Victor’s cheek.  The tenderness of Yuuri’s regard, the surety with which he gave it, was captivating.  Victor found he couldn’t look away.  Found he didn’t want to, not even when his eyes closed as Yuuri pulled him flush against his front, soft lips meeting Victor’s, parting, asking for Victor to meet him where he stood.





	and it's a long way forward, so trust in me

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Neon Lights](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/322215) by Iru. 



Victor switched the high beams off as the snow flurried harder, thick flakes swirling past until it felt like they were engaging warp drive in a low budget reconstruction of half the Star Trek episodes Yuuri barely remembered watching. The radio crackled, monotone voice repeating the updates on road closures as they crept along. “ _... the Interstate has been closed at the Summit, with chain control in effect from the foothills through the mountains. Snowfall is being measured at twenty-two inches…”_

Victor whistled, low and impressed. That would explain the increasing amount of snow they were plowing through as they kept driving.

Turning down the volume on the radio, he glanced over into the passenger seat. Yuuri had his coat bundled on, the front left open, scarf draped around his neck. He was staring out the windshield with a frown pulling at the corner of his lips, highlighted in the greens and blues of the dashlights. He was close enough Victor might have chanced leaning over to press a kiss to the corner of that frown, but with their eight hour drive having already turned into a fourteen hour drive through inclement weather, Victor suspected he was more likely to end up with a grumpy boyfriend on his hands than a laughing one. 

“Might be worth seeing if we can find someplace for the night. The cabin rental is on the other side of the Summit, isn’t it?”

Yuuri’s frown intensified before he sat back with a sigh. He turned his face toward Victor, some of the tension in his form relaxing. “Yeah. I thought we might have had to deal with holiday traffic since we were driving up on Christmas Eve, but record breaking snowstorms? Everything said they wouldn’t hit until January!”

Victor laughed, shaking his head. “Life has a way of surprising you when you least expect it.” He reached out, finding Yuuri’s hand where it rested in his lap. It was almost too simple, too misleadingly easy to interlace their fingers, Victor giving Yuuri’s hand a squeeze as his lips curled into a soft, fond smile. “Sometimes in the best ways possible.”

Yuuri felt himself blushing, most of it disguised by the darkness and play of light off the planes of his face. He would have thought by now he wouldn’t feel flutters of happy nerves in his stomach whenever Victor was simply _happy_ to be with him, stating so directly or by implication, yet here he was. A warm surge of his affection for Victor left Yuuri temporarily breathless, blinking back the prickling of tears in the corners of his eyes. The worries plaguing his mind, rational and otherwise, sounded a little less loud in his head when he brought Victor’s hand up, pressing his lips against the back of his knuckles. “I don’t know if a blizzard counts as a good surprise, Vitya.”

“Oh, but think of the possibilities! It’s like our own extra adventure before we’re snowbunnies for the next week. We might end up camping in the car next to some gas station, snuggled for warmth in our sleeping bags and running the heater every so often, getting out of the car to brush the snow off so we don’t end up buried before daybreak…”

The dreamy quality to Victor’s voice was a tease of its own, Yuuri breathing out in a huff of laughter and squeezing his lover’s hand once more before letting go. “Romantic. Still, I’ll see if I can’t find some motel between here and the Summit with a room available.” Nerves of a distinctly less pleasant sort curled in his stomach; it felt unlikely they’d find anything on Christmas Eve, with who knew how many others on the road in the same situation? He pulled out his phone, bringing up his browser, praying that his one bar of service would be enough for what they needed to do.

His fainthearted optimism tanked even further when loading a search in the first place took upward of five minutes. Yuuri grew increasingly more fidgety, foot tapping against the floor of the car. He liked having plans. Knowing what he was headed toward and knowing the details could be worked out along the way weren’t mutually exclusive, but he liked the certainty of a destination if nothing else. He nearly jumped when Victor’s hand at his knee squeezed, jerking his head up to look over at Victor with wide eyes, only to see Victor nodding his head toward the right side of the road. Through the falling snow, the white and blue of the road sign would have been lost without the reflective paint lighting it up in softened darkness. The icons for a gas station and lodging stood out, stark and peppered with clumps of clinging snow.

“Want to take a chance and see if they have a vacancy? If nothing else, they might have wi-fi we could borrow looking for other options.”

Yuuri looked back down at his phone screen, search logo finally loading. He sighed, feeling a mix of aggravation and relief. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s try. We can pick something up at the gas station if nothing else.”

“Like chains?”

“Kinky.” Yuuri’s response was automatic and off the cuff, followed by his belated realisation of what he’d said as Victor coughed and started laughing, straight from the belly. 

“Yuuri! You didn’t mention that last time we talked about experimenting —”

“Oh look, there’s our exit!” Given their speed, it was hardly coming up fast, unlike the heat rushing to Yuuri’s face. In a way, he was glad for it, even while he half wanted to press a cheek to the window to absorb the cold from outside and take the edge off his embarrassment. Especially when his mind started to wander, and it was less chains and more images of Victor in golden chain link body jewelry, wrists over his head and blue eyes peering up through lashes from where he lay on the bed before Yuuri, lips parted, offering up his name like it was both a prayer and his salvation at once…

Yuuri gestured emphatically toward the windshield, squirming out of something more than nerves. Victor was still laughing, obligingly turning on his signal in spite of the fact they couldn’t see any other lights in the flurry of snow building on the interstate. It took far too long to pull up the off-ramp and signal right, following the posted sign under the lone streetlight. The trees here were heavily laden with fresh snow, the road seemingly unmarked, though it was misleading. Victor could seem the impression of tire treads that had gone through some time before, filled in again with more snow as the storm carried on. 

The road wound back around, parallel to the freeway, disguised by a line of trees and the rise of a small ridge buried under the snows. They passed under the light of another streetlamp, the snow falling in mesmerising swirls as they drove through. Ahead, bright white and brilliant pinks and softer blues lit up the night, diffuse and welcoming. A rainbow of colours seemed to shimmer through the falling snow, resolving into a massive pine tree wrapped in ropes of Christmas lights as they turned onto the side road leading up to the single gas station and nearby motel.

Yuuri let go of a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding when he saw the motel’s sign underscored with the **Vacancy** light in cursive hot pink, the _No_ left unlit. Almost immediately after, he wondered if that was accurate; what if that light had simply burnt out? One of the letters in the larger sign above was flickering in and out, the oh in lodge fading and brightening from one moment to the next. The _No_ could be malfunctioning, meant to join in bathing the whole front side of the motel in neon alongside the spectacle of Christmas lights burning steady around the trunk of the pine. 

“Looks like we might be in luck!”

Victor’s voice cut through Yuuri’s second guessing, prompting him into collecting his phone and shoving it back into his pocket while Victor’s hand left Yuuri’s knee. 

“Only one way to find out.”

Victor nodded as he pulled into the vague space in front that might or might not have been for parking, slowing down until they nosed to a soft stop. Putting the car in park, he left the engine running, digging his gloves out of the centre console and flashing Yuuri a smile. “By bribing the front desk?”

“Or asking.” 

Victor mulled this over while Yuuri pulled on his own gloves, turning the engine off once they were both ready to step out of the vehicle. “Asking sounds so reasonable,” he said, winking as he opened the door. “Oh, _burr!_ ”

Yuuri privately agreed with the assessment, zipping up his jacket and rewrapping his scarf around his neck. He joined Victor in trudging toward the front office, leaning into him when he found an arm slung across his shoulders. Victor sighed, a small, soft sound, leaning in to finally press a kiss to the corner of Yuuri’s mouth. At Yuuri’s blink of confusion, Victor clarified. “I’ve been wanting to do that for the last few hours.”

It wasn’t much of an explanation, but it was met with a small smile on Yuuri’s behalf. 

The door opened inward, spilling snow and both men into the small lobby for the motel lodge. An older woman sat bundled behind the counter, watching a movie on her computer monitor; she glanced up at the sound of the door chiming, blinking in owlish surprise. “Heck of a storm out there,” she said as she dropped her feet down off the stool they’d been resting on, meeting them at the counter proper. 

“Twenty-two inches of fresh snowfall at the Summit,” Victor said agreeably, flashing her a winning smile. “Threw a wrench in our plans, past the fresh powder for skiing.”

She snorted, glancing past the both of them out through the broad window looking out into the snow. “The resorts are going to eat this up right before Christmas. Speaking of, Merry Christmas Eve.” Her smile was genuine and warm, hands bare as she started to clack away on the keys of the keyboard. “We’ve had people trickling in all night, but as luck would have it, I’m not going to have to send you back out into the storm. We’ve got a single on the second floor available, facing out at the signs. Tends to be a bit bright, but if you close the blinds, you should be fine.”

Yuuri breathed out in a sigh of relief so obvious the woman behind the desk was prompted into laughing. “Oh thank God,” he said, gloved hands coming together in front of him. “We’ll take it!”

Victor wound an arm around Yuuri’s padded waist, pulling him snug against his side with a smile curling his lips up at the corners. It’d been the right idea, finding someplace to weather out the rest of the storm for the night. Even if the Summit had stayed open, he wasn’t sure it would have been the best plan to press on. Fourteen hours in the car was exhausting when planned, let alone like this. “See? We got lucky.”

The way Victor’s hand slipped down to Yuuri’s hip made his mind skitter away toward another consideration of lucky; even beyond that, to the deeper kind of luck that had brought them into each other’s lives. It was the preoccupying thought in his mind as they hauled their suitcases out of the back of the car, trudging up the covered stairs to their room. 

The cold followed them into a room warmer than Yuuri expected; with the blinds pulled back, pinks and blues filtered through, casting the room in a soft glow. He shook his head, setting down his suitcase and fumbling for the light. The soft yellow drove out the shadows, Victor closing the door and throwing the lock before pulling off his boots. Yuuri left his own by the door as well, crouching down to examine the in-wall heater, fiddling with the temperature controls. Turning on the heat, he worked his scarf loose again, taking three steps toward the bed and flopping down with a groan.

“Are we going to try and head out again early in the morning?”

Victor shrugged out of his jacket, draping it across the back of the chair by the desk. “We should probably wait and see what the weather’s like. Do you think the front desk has a shovel we could borrow to unbury the car?”

“Probably. They have to shovel the walkways too, I’d think.” Yuuri rolled over, watching Victor set both their suitcases on top of the low dresser. By the time he was forming the words to offer to help, Victor was already done. Yuuri found himself stifling a yawn unsuccessfully, Victor shooting him a fond look as his eyes started to close.

“You don’t want to take a shower before we sleep?”

“Mm.” Yuuri vaguely waved his hand in Victor’s direction. His glasses pressed uncomfortably against his temple and the bridge of his nose, but not so bad that he felt he needed to do anything about it. “In a little.”

Victor shook his head, unzipping his suitcase to pull out his toiletries bag and a change of clothes. By the time he looked back over his shoulder, Yuuri had already drifted off, mouth open, features slack. When exhaustion hit where Yuuri felt he could relax, he was out like a light. Tonight was no exception.

Victor turned off the light, the softer glow of pinks and blue stealing into the room through the sheer curtains. He thought about drawing the blinds, letting Yuuri sleep on as he needed, if Victor just properly tucked him into bed. The intention lingered in the back of his mind as he moved closer, sitting down on the mattress and reaching out to brush the hair off Yuuri’s forehead. It never achieved much, but he like the feeling of Yuuri’s hair between his fingers. He liked being able to see this side of Yuuri, unguarded and minutes away from drooling. It was a kind of intimacy he’d never known he wanted, had never suspected he’d enjoy as much as he did until he’d met Yuuri. There was so much about himself that he hadn’t understood until Yuuri had come in his life. There was so much he was still learning about himself, just as he continued to learn more about Yuuri, even now. 

Gently coaxing his lover’s glasses off his face, Victor folded them in and shifted to place them on the sidetable. Yuuri curled up on the bed in response, drawing his feet onto the mattress with a soft, sleepy sigh.

Victor felt his heart lurch, following an intuition he trusted implicitly, like he’d trusted most of his intuitions over the years. He curled up facing Yuuri, studying his face, the messy fall of his hair, the lay of his lashes against his cheeks when he was like this. A deceptive softness to features that hid a strong, stubborn heart. One of the most inspiring people that Victor knew, and that on top of facing challenges that Victor only had begun to understand with Yuuri’s help.

He traced the curve of Yuuri’s jaw with soft reverence, accepting the tremor in his hand as his own overflowing emotion. Yuuri was precious in a way that Victor couldn’t verbalise; it was love, but it was more than love. Being with Yuuri, standing at his side, felt like coming home. Felt like he’d always been home, watching the way Yuuri’s eyes lit up when he was thinking, searching for an answer; the dogged way Yuuri pushed through despite stumbling, picking himself up again and again until he perfected whatever he was striving after. 

Yuuri had given Victor back a life he hadn’t realised he’d misplaced along the way. The only thing even more precious was the love he offered, no holds barred; a wellspring of emotion that Victor felt himself return, unquestioning.

His finger traced to Yuuri’s chin, then up, wiping away the beginning of a strand of drool with a private smile. They were messy and imperfect, and they didn’t always understand each other. They argued, and they reconciled, and they’d been learning how to talk and hear each other without assuming they knew what the other man hadn’t said. It was wonderful and liberating, frustrating and frightening, and Victor wanted more of it every day of his life, forever more.

The surge of affection and adoration that followed on that thought left him incapable of speaking even if he’d wanted to, palm of his hand resting gently on the side of Yuuri’s face. Victor moved his head in, bumping his forehead against Yuuri’s. It was a wonderful thing, to realise his own love. To be part of Yuuri’s love, and to live with it burning underneath his skin, warm and reassuring.

It was that warmth that he closed his eyes to savour; that he drifted off to sleep surrounded by, Yuuri’s steady breathing a lullaby to calm his mind into resting.

They woke in a tangle of limbs hours later, the bright blue glow of the numbers on the digital clock on the nightstand proudly proclaiming they’d crossed the barrier of days into the twenty-fifth of December. Victor’s birthday, though the thought didn’t cross his mind as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s welcoming lips in the glow of lights suffusing the room through their sheer curtains.

“Good morning,” he said, sounding sleepy but chipper.

“Technically,” Yuuri said in response, pressing a kiss to Victor’s lips in turn, then lifting his head to squint toward the clock. He could vaguely make out the numbers that way: either two or four or six in the morning. None of it particularly mattered. He sat up, stretching his arms overhead, pointing his toes to stretch out his calves as he squirmed toward the edge of the bed. 

Victor pouted at his back, expression lost in the shadows Yuuri left behind. “Where are you going?” 

“Shower,” Yuuri said around another yawn, pushing up to his feet and rolling his shoulders. 

Victor studied him in silhouette, haloed in the wash of neon pink coming through the window. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull him back on the bed, snuggle up to him and kiss him long and slow, until they were both ready to sleep, or ready for anything but. He didn’t; instead he pushed up to a seated position, following after Yuuri as he headed for the shower.

Victor caught up with Yuuri at the bathroom door, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck while he wrapped an arm around Yuuri’s waist. “Sounds like fun. May I join you?”

Yuuri leaned back into his embrace, smiling in spite of himself. “As long as we’re agreeing to shower.”

“Mm, yes, yes!” His nod was pointlessly enthusiastic, Victor dropping his head down to pepper the side of Yuuri’s face with kisses as he went on. “We’ll shower, very well. Lots of scrubbing and all that. Rinsing too. Maybe even shampooing — _twice_.”

Yuuri snorted, pulling away from Victor’s embrace and shower of kisses in order to take him by the hand and tug him into the small bathroom, both of them puzzling over the shower controls. The water ran cold, taking time to heat up; they stripped at a leisurely pace, leaving the door open, taking time to relieve themselves before the water finally started steaming. Yuuri hissed in appreciation when he checked the temperature with the back of his hand, stepping into the shower. Victor followed in after, fingertips lingering at the small of Yuuri’s back, as if the loss of even that small contact was more than he could bear.

Yuuri stood under the spray of hot water first, Victor pressing soft, lingering kisses against Yuuri’s shoulders and the nape of his neck, only for Yuuri to return the favour when Victor was standing under the showerhead. 

They took their time, lathering the faintly cedar scented soap over each other’s shoulders, down arms, across the planes of their chests, along the curve of their backs. Victor sunk lower, steadying himself on one knee as he worked up Yuuri’s legs ankle to thigh, Yuuri bracing one hand against the wall. He leaned in to press one soap tinged kiss to Yuuri’s inner thigh, nuzzling against skin and muscle, Yuuri breathing in sharp enough for him to hear. The look Victor gave him, peering through his lashes where he knelt in front of Yuuri, hands rubbing circles up over his knee, on the outside of his thigh, was patently unfair. 

Yuuri raked his fingers through Victor’s damp hair, swallowing the thrum of arousal that stirred under Victor’s touch, with that look in his eyes. Yuuri didn’t need to see the details to know it; he knew Victor well enough to imagine on his own.

When it was his turn, he was no less thorough or attentive than Victor had been; perhaps more so, when he pressed a reverent kiss to each knee, to the insides of his thighs, to the curve of one hip. Everything about Victor was beautiful, impressive; the small scars, littered here and there, the definition of the muscles of his thighs, the way he could unabashedly coo over his poodle one moment, and in the next, be draping over Yuuri, doing a fair impression of begging for attention without ever saying the words. He was brilliant; he was a dork, in the best of ways. 

Yuuri loved him. He knew that, felt it in his bones, the knowledge beating along with his heart in his chest. As water cascaded down over Victor’s shoulders, rinsing him clean of the lather of soap from Yuuri’s hands, Yuuri rose, hands skating up over Victor’s abdomen, his stomach, his chest. His arms wrapped around Victor’s neck as he pulled him in for a long, sweet kiss, the warmth of their bodies and the water caught between them, almost intoxicating.

He felt far more awake now than when he’d first stepped into the shower, the formless want of cleanliness moving into a different desire, for closeness, for a dialogue between bodies to say what his tongue too often tripped over, when he most needed words. “All clean?” he said when the ended their kiss, Victor humming his agreement as he nuzzled at Yuuri’s ear, nibbling on the lobe. Yuuri shuddered, feeling the touch of teeth and tongue as a straight shock of arousal to his groin, sliding one arm off Victor’s shoulders to twist the water off. In the whine of the motel fan, the squeak of their feet against the bottom of the tub felt like part of a personal symphony; the rub of towels over bodies, through wet hair, leaving it damp instead, a pause in a building crescendo. 

Yuuri laced his fingers through Victor’s, tugging him forward as they left their towels hanging over the hook on the bathroom wall. He watched Victor with an intensity belied by the gentle brush of his lips against Victor’s fingertips; embarrassment wasn’t for moments like these, not when he felt his own love humming through him, stronger than even the seductive melody of his building arousal. Victor stared back at him as Yuuri walked him toward the bed; leaned his face into Yuuri’s cupped palm, when his other hand found Victor’s cheek. The tenderness of Yuuri’s regard, the surety with which he gave it, was captivating. Victor found he couldn’t look away. Found he didn’t want to, not even when his eyes closed as Yuuri pulled him flush against his front, soft lips meeting Victor’s, parting, asking for Victor to meet him where he stood.

They kissed like time didn’t matter; like they might drink a fine wine, lingering and savouring the bouquet, luxuriating in each other’s company. Victor didn’t know when Yuuri had managed to turn them both around; when the edge of the bed brushed the back of his legs, he barely blinked, breathing out in a soft gasp of surprise.

Yuuri smiled, gently and fond, reaching up stroke the pad of his thumb across Victor’s lips, fingers stroking down along his cheek. Victor turned his face, kissing Yuuri’s fingertips, one hand tracing formless patterns down Yuuri’s arm, the other tracing circles against the small of Yuuri’s back.

“Do you?” Yuuri asked, and Victor nodded, his answer more solid and real than the soften drama of the suffused light they stood in. Outside, the snow continued to fall, muting the bright pinks and the softer blues, illuminating their room in reflection. 

“ _Yes._ ”

“Where?”

“On top,” he said, and his eyes lifted from Yuuri’s face, looking over his shoulder to where his toiletries bag sat on top of his folded clothes, by his suitcase. Yuuri’s fingers brushed past his ear, carding through damp hair, settling curled around the back of his head. Yuuri tugged him forward, resting their foreheads together, dark gaze capturing Victor’s as effortlessly as breathing.

“Watch me,” Yuuri asked, ordered, with the full knowledge that Victor was as stubborn as he was. Neither of them would comply where they didn’t wish to; and it was heady, in the wake of that understanding, to feel Victor’s fingers dig into the skin of his back, to hear him swallow, his expression turning as serious and intent as Yuuri’s.

“Always,” he said, and Yuuri believed him. Believed him, and as always, as they both did, asked for more.

“ _Watch me_ , Vitya, and never look away.”

Yuuri could feel the weight of Victor’s gaze on him as he pulled back, turning around to seek out what he needed out of Victor’s things. The slim black cylinder of lubricant and the gold-lettered foil of their preferred condoms were buried under Victor’s toothpaste. Yuuri fished them out, turning around and taking a moment to admire Victor as he stood there, bathed in the soft neon glow from one side, cast in rembrandt shadows by the fall of the light. Yuuri’s eyes dipped lower, licking his lips as he walked forward, glad for the evidence of Victor’s arousal. He wasn’t quite there yet, but neither was Yuuri.

There was so much he wanted to give Victor; so much he’d given, and so much more to give. This was simply one more way for them to weave a dialog togeteher, and as Yuuri tossed the bottle and condoms onto the bed, he slid his hands around Victor’s waist and dipped them down, massaging the muscle of his backside while pressing languidly up against his front. Chest to chest, hips slotted as neatly together as he could manage, he kissed Victor with the same unhurried quality as earlier, neon light spilling over both of them when Yuuri finally tipped them back toward the mattress, falling. He tucked his head to the side of Victor’s neck, wrapping his arms around his waist as they fell, Victor’s arms wrapping around Yuuri’s shoulders. They bounced, the mattress squeaking a gentle protest under their combined weight, and they both paused, breathing out in a short burst of laughter. 

Yuuri unwound his arms from Victor, moving to straddle his legs, settling his weight on his heels and knees as he admired the man lying underneath him. Victor was already reaching out, one hand stroking over Yuuri’s thigh, the other stroking up along his chest. They were both greedy for touch; Yuuri greedy also for the sight of Victor, planes of his face and body rendered both stark and soft in the light coming through the sheer curtains. Yuuri had to touch him, run his hand along Victor’s arm, back toward his shoulder. There was something intoxicating about the way every movement almost looked like a seduction, here in a snowstorm, fully intending to make love with the man he loved most in the world for no greater or lesser reason than because he wanted to, and because he loved him, and because he enjoyed this as much as Victor did.

To Victor, there was nothing in the world more alluring than Yuuri feeling his confidence, whatever the setting. That it was here, fingers and hands exploring Victor’s arms, his chest, tracing the curve of his neck before dipping down along his midline to circle playfully around his navel, felt as right and natural as anywhere else. Yuuri was beautiful, far more than skin deep; bathed in the diffuse neon pink light of the signs outdoors, the harder to pick out points of colour coming from the bright lights strung around the pine tree, Victor also felt like none of this was quite real. Some days he was worried he might wake up to find Yuuri and everything wonderful he’d brought into Victor’s life was little more than a fever dream; it was a thought he disliked, so he shoved it away, burying it where he didn’t have to see.

Yet now, eyes locked on Yuuri, watching him as he leaned in to kiss Victor on his lips, bracing himself with a hand planted just over Victor’s shoulder, he didn’t know what to think. He knew how to want, how to appreciate, how to hold himself and give his unchecked, unfiltered reactions to Yuuri without being asked. It was why he moaned in the back of his throat when Yuuri’s tongue dipped into his mouth, tasting Victor; why his own hands roamed over Yuuri’s sides, tracing ribs and his waist, the rounding of his hips and the muscle that he cupped and kneaded, one hand on each cheek. Why he ground upward, seeking out some small friction, but stilled when Yuuri kissed a trail across his face, back to his ear: when Yuuri murmured _not yet_ and Victor swallowed. _Okay_.

He didn’t think he knew what it was to make love, before he met Yuuri. Oh, he thought he had, infatuated and caring, where his nature was one that sought to love without knowing how to love. Blind affection and happy, eager bedpartners had been enjoyable; he had fond memories, few regrets. Yet the substance, the heart behind them wasn’t the same as even half a moment spent with Yuuri. One kiss, and it struck part of Victor’s soul in a way he couldn’t name if he’d had to try. 

Like he couldn’t name the complicated twist of love and desire and adoration and everything else that twisted around in his chest now. When Yuuri sat back on his heels, eyes traveling down Victor’s face, down his chest, his abdomen, Victor felt his breath catch in his throat. Yuuri’s expression could be difficult to read, for those who didn’t know him well. What might look like neutrality was so often concentration, his mind racing ahead of wherever he was in the moment. The intensity with which he searched for solutions brought his eyes to life in a way Victor didn’t think he’d ever seen before he’d met Yuuri; he could almost see them sparkle now, as he reached for the lubricant, clever tongue tracing over his upper lip. Victor wanted to lift himself up, drag Yuuri down for another round of kisses. He could never have enough of him, could never have enough of holding hands or leaning against his shoulder, of watching sunsets or sunrises or the simple beauty of gulls at the seashore when he was by Yuuri’s side.

Patience left him where he lay, hands rubbing circles over Yuuri’s knees, arousal growing. He could feel himself harden as Yuuri poured lubricant over his own fingers, lifting himself up on his knees and leaning forward, planting a hand at Victor’s side while his other hand curled around behind him. Slicking lubricant over his sphincter, biting down on his lip as he slid the tips of his fingers inside, so careful, so slow. His eyes found Victor’s again, head dipping down to kiss him with a hunger that complimented Victor’s, unrushed and unapologetic ll at once.

It was a hunger Victor didn’t think would ever be satisfied; it was an appetite for words and touch and time as much as it was for kisses and caresses and the sensory overload of sex. Yuuri settled back again, awash in neon pink and splashes of blue, his arousal bobbing with the motion. It was a pleasant distraction, Victor’s gaze pulled down to admire the sight of Yuuri in whole, wanting to drink in this vision of his lover poised above him, painted in colours that would stay with Victor long after they left this place. He might remember nothing else about this motel but how Yuuri looked in these moments, and he would count himself the luckiest of men for having been here in the first place. With Yuuri. Always with Yuuri.

Fingers still stroking over his anus, Yuuri reached for the strand of foil packets, giving up on finding a single condom. He brought the strand of five up to his mouth, using his teeth to delicately tear off the top of the first packet, eyes locked on Victor’s. Victor swallowed hard, finding the intensity of Yuuri’s regard erotic; reaching up with one hand to take the strand of condoms from him, fingers fumbling as he coaxed the condom free. Victor set the rest to the side, starting to look down at his own length before he was stopped by Yuuri’s voice.

“Watch me, Vitya.”

He dragged his eyes up, lips parting as he kept his eyes on Yuuri’s face. He had himself in hand, the condom rolled over his glans and the length of his shaft while Yuuri reached down and touched himself, fingers stroking along the underside of his arousal.

“Are you watching?”

“Yes,” Victor said, blindly reaching for the lubricant. His questing hand found the familiar cylinder, dragging it closer, uncapping it over his abdomen. “You’re incredible, Yuuri. Everything you do, everything you are…” He was generous with the lubricant he stroked down over his covered erection, shivering as Yuuri leaned in. What was he trying to say? 

“So are you, Vitya. Even more incredible,” Yuuri declared, expression gaining a hint of that stubborn insistence that Victor was so fond of and exasperated by in turns. “You always have been. You always will be.”

Yuuri slipped his fingers back out of his rectum, missing the gentle sense of being full, the brush against his prostate. He shifted his hips forward as the same hand found Victor’s arousal, guiding him toward where he wanted to feel him, that sense of fulness he loved to give, and loved to be given. It was a matter of mood, of give and take. A matter of how on edge he was, as he pressed Victor’s glans against his entrance. The firm pressure, so much more than his fingers, left him open mouthed and breathing out in a low moan, sinking down little by little.

Victor could feel the muscle contractions of Yuuri’s orgasm before he could even read it on Yuuri’s face. He leaned forward, hands braced against Victor’s chest, a low, rolling, “ _Oh_ ,” pulled out of his chest as he trembled with the strength of his first dry orgasm. The contraction around the head of Victor’s erection had him grinding his teeth, a low, pleased sound caught in the back of his throat. Yuuri’s eyes had closed, but they blinked open at the sound. He shook his head, raking a hand back through his damp hair, leaving his forehead exposed while his eyes caught Victor’s. 

He was beautiful, in every way that mattered, and plenty that didn’t. “So beautiful, Yuuri.” Victor’s hand traced up his leg, fingers splaying over Yuuri’s hip, a steadying presence as the last of Yuuri’s first orgasm worked its way through his system. He was so sensitive, so keyed up, to be like this. Victor felt his arousal surge in response, but he held still, toes curling. He let his other hand roam over Yuuri’s chest, pad of his thumb stroking lazy circles around the bud of his nipple, encouraging it to firm further. Small points of contact; small fires he could light for Yuuri, as surely as Yuuri fans all his own.

They made love, Yuuri lowering himself by inches, going still to adjust to the shape of Victor. Victor’s voice was a low litany of praise and adoration, unsure himself even what he said, knowing it was every iteration of _I love you_ except for the one that framed those specific words. How this was so different, the joining of sensations of pleasure upon pleasure, and the fullness of his heart, the joy that wondered, yet again, to have found Yuuri, and to have been found by Yuuri, in this world. In any world.

Making love with Yuuri was an act of the body, the heart, the soul. It was an exercise of the mind, all these separated parts of himself engaged and inextricable from the act, from Yuuri. While he kept one hand on Yuuri’s hip, the other stroked and traced patterns hard enough to be felt against his abdomen, his chest, rolling Yuuri’s nipples between his fingers to pinch, lightly, appreciating the way it made Yuuri gasp and tighten everything for a moment before he would relax again. 

Holding still was both the easiest and hardest thing for Victor to do, but it was worth it, immeasurably so, to study Yuuri’s face when he’d sunk down to his heels, until he'd taken in all of Victor, until he sat resting against the warmth of Victor’s hips, his upper thighs. Yuuri looked up then, the look of concentration and his parted lips turning into a soft smile. 

“I love you,” Victor said, unplanned and spontaneous, swallowing with a dry throat. It was direct, for once, one of many confessions that distilled down to that one complex truth.

Yuuri held still, eyes widening, legs pressing tight against the outside of Victor’s thighs. He swallowed too, leaning forward to press his lips against Victor’s, holding him in a long, sweet, open mouthed kiss. “I know," and it sounded so arrogant to his ears, so delightfully presumptive, but he always knew he would say, "I love you too." Flushed with arousal and a blush of fierce enjoyment of a love he couldn’t frame as one simple love. English was perhaps the hidden blessing, too inadequate for subtleties, collecting everything under one word.

_Love._

He reached for Victor’s hand, lacing their fingers together as he lifted himself up, setting a slow, maddening pace, adjusting angles until he found one that had him tipping his head back, moaning without reservation. Victor joined him, savouring the sound, his soft gasps and grunts mixing with moans as Yuuri drove him mad in delicious degrees. The slick, wet sounds of sex, the squeak of the old mattress beneath them, the intermittent sounds of their breathing, gasping, low moans and hitched inhalations, they were all part of the music composed between them. Yuuri looked down, studying the planes of Victor's face, admiring the shifting expressions that came and went as he rode him slower, then faster, sinking up and down, bracing against Victor’s shoulders as he rolled his hips, clenching muscles and only pausing to add more lubricant, Victor laughing breathily and commenting after Yuuri’s stamina in part praise, part amazement.

Yuuri kissed him, sitting back up and resuming their steady pace, feeling his own need slowly building. Deeper within his core, that elusive sensation he chased while Victor watched and touched and gently rocked up into him, meeting Yuuri’s downward motions with his own upward roll. It brought Victor so close to release, but never quite there, Yuuri smiling once in distracted acknowledgement when Victor whined without meaning it. Victor couldn’t manage a huff, caught up in turning Yuuri’s name into a low moan, a song of adoration without lyrics or a real melody, his fingertips digging into Yuuri’s hip as he rocked up again and again, looking for a little more friction with each small movement of his body.

Victor stroked the palm of his free hand down over Yuuri’s length, starling a gasp out of Yuuri as he glanced down at him, mouth open, panting. “Not yet,” he said, lacing his fingers with Victor’s again. Yuuri up the speed of his movements, riding Victor with a single minded drive, Victor’s sweet nothings of praise turning into a litany of Yuuri’s name and moans he didn’t try to swallow. “ _Oh_ ,” he said as Yuuri’s second orgasm crashed over him and he moaned out _Vitya_ , Victor gritting his teeth as he thrust up into Yuuri, finding his own toe-curling, back arching release as Yuuri collapsed against Victor’s chest, holding on desperately as waves of pleasure kept crashing through him. Victor felt most the muscle contractions, overstimulated and gasping, holding Yuuri close. Burying his face in the crook of Yuuri’s neck, trying not to pant with exertion, murmuring praise and stroking his fingers through Yuuri’s hair as the neon light flooded his senses, leaving him floating on a cloud pleasured satisfaction done up in pink and blue and twinkling lights as points of colour he could almost taste.

He only moved when Yuuri stopped shivering in his throes of pleasure, Yuuri’s kisses gentle and sweet against Victor’s neck. Pulled out, to pull off the condom, tying it and dropping it into the bin. He curled up around Yuuri, his lover turning to face him and entangle their limbs, his partial erection pressed up against Victor’s hip. They kissed, needing this, riding through the lassitude of their own lovemaking, staying in contact, brushing fingers through hair, over arms, down sides. Reassurance in actions, _I want you, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere_.

The nonsensical feeling of inequity nipped at Victor, leaving him regarding Yuuri after with a thoughtful look as they rested for long minutes, legs entangled, one arm looped over each other, the other supporting the pillows they’d pulled down to tuck under their heads. “When was yet?” Victor asked, looping back to what Yuuri had said earlier; he didn’t expect to be met by a small, sly smile.

“Now, if you don’t mind.” 

Victor blinked, laughing softly as he shook his head, “I never mind.” Wondering at the surprise of Yuuri and his appetites as they resumed slow, purposeful kisses, caressing over chests, thighs, backsides. He was surprised to feel himself already responding, sensitive, yes, but not painfully so. “Incorrigible,” he said. Yuuri smiled against his lips, rolling over so he rested on top of Victor again. 

“Probably,” he agreed, craning to the side to find where their lubricant had relocated itself. 

Yuuri slid lubricant slick fingers between Victor’s thighs, kissing across Victor’s chest as he did, sucking lightly on the bud of one nipple when his lips brushed over. The thrill it shot straight to Victor’s arousal was strong enough to leave him gasping, Yuuri glancing up with a small smile, studying Victor’s face for a moment in the soft pink light. He lowered his head again, licking and suckling with a hum in the back of his throat, leaving small love nips across Victor’s chest as he lavished attention on it. Victor arched up, moving his legs without thinking, only to have Yuuri nip at his collarbone and coax his legs back together.

“Keep them like this for me, Vitya. Please,” Yuuri said, kissing Victor’s jaw, trailing back toward his ear. “Remember not to look away.”

Yuuri tore open another condom wrapper, rolling it onto his dick with an ease and familiarity that he once never dreamed of having; no particular desire, no particular need. The burgeoning of his own _eros_ was so intrinsically tied to Victor he might never have found it if he hadn’t ended up entangled with him. Still might not have, if they hadn’t ended up finding more than mutual respect growing between them, as two professionals in their field.

They were faraway thoughts as he straddled Victor’s thighs, those glorious thighs, and guided his arousal down, angling his hips to roll them forward and push into the haven of Victor’s thighs. Yuuri gasped, shuddering after the first thrust, overwhelmed in that moment by sensation and emotion both. So much, to be allowed this, to know he can take and give and be accepted and asked to take in return. The trust that didn't bear questioning, and the affection that set his heart and body aflame with want. He felt Victor’s hand caressing his face, cupping his cheek; looked up, seeing a glint of something wet in his eyes. 

He was happy. The look on Victor’s face might have been closer to awe, but it was joyous in a way that took his breath away, loving, unafraid. He pulled Yuuri down for a kiss, fingers tangled in the mess of his hair, mouth soft, lips parted.

“I see you,” he said when that kiss ended, and the unaccountable thrill, the surge of affection that coursed through Yuuri’s system at those three words had him crushing his lips against Victor’s again, pulling back and thrusting down. 

Victor kept him close, plying kisses and touches as Yuuri made love to him like this, too, starting slow and escalating as Yuuri found no reason to hold back, Victor sliding a hand between them to stroke down his growing arousal. The mattress kept up its steady squeaking, the shifting pattern of soft exclamations and murmured names mixing with moans and gasps and the muffled slap of flesh against flesh translating into the chorus of their pleasure, muffled by the silence of the falling snow outside. It was timeless, this moment of blooming warmth and need and ache warm beneath their skin, every point of contact electric, magnetic. The need becoming overwhelming, building to a point that Yuuri wanted to chase after, catch hold of, like one might hold a falling star while it still burned. Yuuri's breath hitched, lifting himself up to thrust erratically into Victor’s thighs as he felt himself tumbling toward his release, Victor arching up beneath him in encouragement as he called out Yuuri’s name.

Yuuri called out his name in turn, his _Vitya_ laced with far too much need and no sense of regret. Never regret, when it came to this, when it came to wanting, to _needing_ Victor. Not anymore. He tried to hold himself up as he tensed, pleasure coursing through him in waves strong enough to leave him shaking as he came, toes curling into the bedspread, trembling and near collapsing on top of Victor. Then starting to collapse in spite of himself, breathing out another, softer, _Oh_ as he fell.

Victor reached up with his free hand to guide him down, kissing him in a dozen breathless moments before encouraging Yuuri over on his side and rising up on his knees, framed between Yuuri’s legs. Victor tangled his fingers in Yuuri’s hair, kissing him with open mouthed need, hand slipping between his own thighs to borrow some of slick wetness left there before he returned to stroking his dick, pumping his loose clenched fist down hard and fast. “Yuuri,” he said, voice unsteady, pleading, “My life," he said, "My love,” he declared, and it was all he could say, finding the point where cohesive words refused to form soon after. He stroked himself through to release crouched over Yuuri, drowning in Yuuri, the scent and taste and feel of him; coming hard enough to streak across his stomach and Yuuri’s abdomen, some inane part of himself thinking of it as a form of sexy collateral damage. A marking, a claiming neither one of them minded; powerful in its own right.

That thought curled in the back of his mind as he collapsed on top of Yuuri, the soft, pink glow of light bathing over his back, blanketing the both of them as they lay there panting, spent, wordlessly happy. Hearts slowed as they cooled down in degrees, the warmth of the heater locked in battle with the chill of the outside air, finding some medium they could appreciate even as sweat chilled them in degrees. After a while, Victor tried rolling off to settle at his lover's side, but Yuuri grunted, wrapping his arms tight around him. He wanted his weight; he wanted him where he was. He enjoyed feeling held down and grounded by the man he loved. It made everything a little more real.

Eventually, they stirred into purposeful movement, laughing as they gave up on cleaning each other with inadequate facial tissues, squirming off the bed and turning the shower back on, rinsing off with quick, tired motions. They toweled themselves dry, helpfully toweling off each other’s hair as they stumbled back into the main room. It should have been cold enough for both of them to get dressed, but Victor had his way for once, cajoling Yuuri into bed and snuggling with him, nude. Curled up and around each other, staying close for warmth and affection in unequal measures, they both sank into the drowsy state of those who’d had a long day of driving and long lovemaking sessions with little room for recovery inbetween.

Victor pressed a kiss to the hollow of Yuuri’s throat, eyes closing as his heart stayed open, aching with feeling. He could live with this, going to bed every night of his life wrapped around Yuuri, knowing he’d wake up to find him still there in his arms. There was no sweeter future than one like that, not that he could see.

Yuuri returned the same gesture of affection, kissing Victor’s forehead through the mess of his bangs. Eyes slitting open to study what he could of Victor’s face in the softened neon light, that he knew he wanted this forever. Going to bed every night entangled in Victor’s arms, holding Victor as much as Victor was holding him. Waking up every morning to find Victor unreasonably chipper, if he hadn’t been drinking too heavily the night before.

It was another conversation they would have, soon. Yuuri knew, because it was a conversation he would begin. The twin golden rings sitting in their velvet covered cases tucked in by his shirts in his suitcase were simply waiting for that moment.

The best gift he could imagine was the promise of a future together. 

He could only hope that Victor would love it as much as he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd for the time being (to be updated once that's done, all errors and hideousnesses are 100% my fault), inspired by Iru's lovely art up on Twitter and [Tumblr](http://iruutciv.tumblr.com/post/165101141836/neon-lights). Between their expressions and the lighting, it's such a wonderfully evocative piece; though goodness knows how this actual written work turned out! 
> 
> Please give their work a look and give them so much appreciation for all they do! It's all truly lovely. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Especially if you stuck past both the opening line (...) and the ending, where for reasons I'm choosing to overlook at the moment, the term "sexy collateral damage" seemed like a _brilliant_ idea at 4 in the morning.


End file.
